


Fateful Decisions

by RositaLG



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e03 Murder and Mozzarella, F/M, Missing Scene, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RositaLG/pseuds/RositaLG
Summary: Jack and Phryne both have some choices to make, but find that their decision was decided long ago. A Murder and Mozz tag.





	

Jack was in an impossible situation. A year ago, within a matter of weeks,  two women had walked into his life. Dichotomous in every way, these two women fell into his lap just as his wife was drawing up the paperwork for a divorce that was over a decade overdue.

Phryne Fisher was, without a doubt, the most infuriating woman he had ever met. She was always meddling in his business, and yet consistently emotionally unavailable to him. Every second in her presence was both exhilarating and exhausting. His nerves were always fraying, either from stress or pleasure, and he had yet to grow accustomed to the sensations she was constantly evoking within him.

She was modern beyond measure, a home and a husband were the antithesis of her plans, and she held more trouble in a strand of her shortly coiffed hair than he would care to deal with in a lifetime. The woman could rightly be accused of having a death wish. He couldn’t count the number of times she had knowingly walked into a life-threatening situation with no thought to her own safety, not that he wasn’t always right behind her. There was a very real possibility that she would be the end of him, either physically, emotionally, or both, but that knowledge would do nothing to stop him from following her straight through the gates of hell.

Concetta Strano, on the other hand, was everything a traditional wife was expected to be and more. A man could do no better in terms of domesticity. She was warm, soothing, and generous. Even now, closing his eyes in his dark, empty kitchen, he could feel her hands in his, the gentle way she stroked his jaw, the curve of her body pressed against his. There was a fiery intensity to her affection that selfishly, Jack craved. It had been so long since anyone had wanted him like that. And to top it all off, tonight she offered to give herself completely to Jack, forsaking even her family, just for the oportunity to be with him. 

Jack knew that if Concetta were given the chance, she could wipe away every worry line in his face. He was certain that he would come home to love and devotion for the rest of his life. She knew the dark and dangerous side of his job and had probably been trained from a young age to support the reckless men in her life through anything. He would be no exception, despite living on the other side of the law.

He also knew that he didn’t love her the same way that she loved him. She loved him wholeheartedly, and his heart was, at the very least, torn.

The matter came down to a single question: was it better to burn alone or settle together?

Even in asking it, he had his answer.

Perhaps if Phryne hadn't completely turned his head by the tenderness she displayed during their conversation outside Strano's. Maybe if he hadn’t looked into her eyes and seen all the things she was too scared to confess, he might have been able to let her go. But he knew that she loved him, in her own way, and that gave him enough hope to soldier on until she was ready to love him out loud.

The clock struck three and he glanced at the empty bottle on his kitchen table. His lack of planning meant that he would eventually be sober enough to go to work but his hangover would show him no mercy.

Jack poured himself one more drink, this time water, and headed for the shower, hoping the steam would do him some good.

OOOOO

Mr. Butler greeted Jack with a silent nod towards the parlor, indicating where he could find the Honourable Miss Fisher, but the observant man quickly returned with a drink and a small packet of powder for the Inspector.

“Oh, bless you, Mr. Butler.” Jack groaned in appreciation as he quickly poured the powder into the drink and stirred it with a spoon.

“They did come from the same village.” Phryne confirmed. “Imagine where all this hate has sprung from.” She glanced at the locket in her hand and Jack had to wonder where her newfound naivete was coming from.

“It makes perfect sense.” He argued. “What greater force is there than thwarted love?” He asked her with a knowing look. Normally, it might have come off as a playful jab but today, the barb went unchecked. His filters were down from his exhaustion and he didn’t care anymore if she cared. They both knew she was the catalyst behind his current misfortune.  

“Burning the midnight oil, Jack? Grappa will do that.” She commented passively. It was a good hit, blaming his presumed activities with Concetta last night for his headache this morning. Yet underneath her sparring was a trap laid out plainly for him. She wanted him to confirm her suspicions without having to sacrifice her pride and ask him for specific details. Even in his rough condition, Jack wasn’t about to get caught in her trap. He knew her interrogation techniques better than she did.

I know you of old, he thought darkly.

“I'm sure I was up no later than you.” He assured her, reminding her that she of all people, couldn’t throw stones.

“Oh, I was tucked up in bed at a very sensible hour.” She defended. He couldn’t tell if she was being facetious about taking a lover or if she wanted to grab the rare opportunity of being the responsible one for once. Either way, she was playing to his curiosity, and he wasn’t about to do her the favor of falling for it.

“If you're waiting for me to ask who with…” He fired back, preparing to continue their verbal sparring.

“That's odd.” She cut him off sharply, making his aching head throb at the quick pivot. “Why would Nonna Luisa take out £6 every Thursday?”

“Wages?” He guessed.

“There were none. Only the family worked there.”

“Shopping?” He offered weakly.

“That all came out of the restaurant account. This was her personal one.”

He wasn’t even trying and she clearly knew it. But the last time she had called him out for not trying, he had confessed his love for her, so she wisely kept her mouth shut and continued on with her thoughts.

“Another one of her secrets.” Phryne mused,  clearly driven mad with curiosity.

Jack’s brain was moving slowly enough that he was still stuck on their previous discussion.

“So what did you say you were up to last night?” Jack asked, not letting her get away with her obvious interruption.

“I didn't.” She replied vaguely. She obviously understood his interrogation techniques too.

“Then why are you asking me?” Jack asked.

“No reason. Just civilised conversation.” She replied in a tone so high, he was certain every dog in the neighborhood perked up at attention.

Jack didn’t have the energy to argue. He just cleared his throat and swallowed the rest of his medicine.

OOOOO

Phryne started the record on the gramophone and poured herself another glass of whiskey.

_“I was a good wife.”_

It was that simple, innocuous statement that Phryne’s mind chose to latch onto. There was nothing that could have prepared her for the instantaneous dread and jealousy that filled her body at hearing it. But if Phryne’s unusual reaction to the statement took her by surprise, it was nothing compared to learning of the existence of Concetta Strano.

Phryne would be the first to admit that the sight of any woman holding Jack’s hand so comfortably in public shocked her to her core. In the entire time she’d known him, after all of their conversations, he had never even suggested that there was another place, another woman, that he visited at the end of his work day. 

Phryne had been unable to resist visiting the woman alone under the disguise of detecting but if she were honest with herself, the detecting she was doing had little to do with the case. She’d tried desperately to push her own feelings aside and analyze the woman objectively as they spoke, but any fool could see what Jack saw in her. It was obvious that they had a history, and although Phryne hadn’t learned precisely what that history entailed, her imagination was working overtime to fill in the blanks.

She took a small amount of solace in the fact that Jack had still been married when he first met Concetta. He would never break his marriage vows, which narrowed Phryne’s time frame slightly. Then again, his divorce had been finalized in December; it was now August and Phryne had given him more than one chance to get away.

One night in particular haunted her.

_“I am who I am, Jack.”_

Phryne’s stomach churned at her own foolishness. Could their two responses be any more different? If she’d known about Concetta, would she have changed her answer? Would she have thought more carefully about her response if she’d known that Jack could turn and run into someone else’s arms?

Did he?

Phryne couldn't even dwell on that thought. The pain that shot through her was nearly...

Unbearable. 

Tears sprung to her eyes as the word echoed around her empty heart.

You fool, she cursed herself. She did her best to drown the word out with another heaping glass of whiskey but the opera music spun on in the background, doubly mocking her fickleness.

“The Inspector to see you, Miss Fisher.” Mr. Butler’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She hadn’t heard anything over the recording. She looked up in surprise to see Jack striding in confidently. She tried her best to make out what this change in his demeanor might mean. Only days before she had been certain of his feelings, and terrified of her own, but now she couldn’t even ascertain his presence in her parlor. 

“Not eating Italian tonight, Jack?” She inquired.

“Strano's is closed.” He said definitively, answering both her spoken and unspoken questions at once.

“Looks like you'll have to make do with me.” She offered, and even as she said it, she knew it rang more true than she liked. He was settling for her.

“Looks like we’ll have to make do with each other.” Jack corrected as he showed off the wine in his hands.

Phryne smiled and got up to get wine glasses, but he reached out for her hand and pulled her over to the chaise. He opened the bottle and handed it to her.

“Ladies first.” He offered.

Her eyes widened at the implications of his outstretched hand but she took a long pull from the bottle before handing it back to him. He took it from her and sipped from it himself.

“How do you do that?” She asked him.

“Do what?” He asked.

“Make third place feel so good.”

“Third place?” He frowned in confusion.

“First it was Rosie, playing at your sense of duty and honor. I thought for sure you would go back to her when she needed you, but then you assured me that you didn’t always do the noble thing and I felt… hopeful again. But then Concetta appeared and I realized that you didn’t necessarily mean with me.” She looked down at her hands.

“Phryne…” He sighed.

“No.” She shook her head. “Don't placate me. It’s my own fault. I wasted my opportunity. Concetta, on the other hand, knew exactly what she wanted and she went after it. Good for her.”

“But I’m not in love with Concetta. Or Rosie.” He added for good measure. “I’m here with you.” He pointed out as he moved a bit closer to her. “Can’t you see? You aren’t in third place. You are so far in first place, the others have lost sight of you.”

Phryne felt her heart stop as she considered what he told her. Somehow, confirming his feelings for her did little to put her at ease.

“Did you doubt it?” He asked, sincerely surprised. That familiar pucker that always appeared between his eyebrows when he became concerned reminded her that this was Jack, her Jack, and her heart began to race.

“Don’t get me wrong, half of me wants to hold on tight and never let you go,” she admitted, “but the other half thinks if you had any sense at all, you would run as fast as you can in the other direction.”

“Tried it.” He reminded her with a small smirk. “Didn’t seem to get very far.” He glanced around pointedly, reminding her that he was in the very same room he’d attempted to flee only months earlier. He took another swig of the wine and she watched as his meticulous mind organized his next words very carefully.

“I’m done running, Phryne. What you choose to do with that information is entirely up to you but... you deserve to know the truth.”

She looked down at his thumb, brushing over the top of her hand absentmindedly, and she wondered if Jack even realized he was holding her hand. It felt impossibly natural to her, as if it belonged there and was just returning to reclaim its territory.

“And you're sure that this, I,” she corrected herself, “am who you want?”

“Quite sure.” He nodded. “This time, I’m not going anywhere.”

She shivered as Jack’s fingertips brushed over the sensitive skin of her wrist.

“Not even... upstairs?” She murmured slyly, her eyes locking onto him to gauge his reaction to her suggestion.

His fingers stilled on her skin before he met her gaze. He swallowed once and she watched the way his throat bobbed before looking him in the eye again.

“I suppose I could make an exception.” His eyes raked over her body and the lightest tinge of pink graced his cheeks as his mind traveled up the stairs before his body did.

“Whatever you’re thinking, hold that thought.” She whispered, licking her lips in anticipation. She stood up and waited for him to do the same. He took a moment to stare up at her, deciding or memorizing, she couldn't be sure.

Eventually, he stood up and followed her up the stairs.

Phryne closed the bedroom door quietly behind him and locked it to avoid any awkwardness tomorrow morning when Dot set to work.

She was still planning her next moves when Jack pulled her back into his embrace. Her head spun wildly as he stared deeply into her eyes. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t been so heavy handed while pouring her whiskey earlier. That clever mind of his was at work again, contemplating the various ways he could have her tonight. She wondered which he would choose.

“I haven’t kissed you yet.” He realized with a blink, coming out of his reverie. She shook her head slowly.

“An unfortunate oversight.” She murmured as he ran a hand across the back of her neck to steady her and closed the distance between them. He tasted like red wine and black pepper and Phryne couldn’t get enough. She groaned into his mouth and he swallowed it greedily as his hands began to disrobe her.

She let him lead, partly to allow him to set his own pace but also just to observe what he’d do with the control. Jack was the first man she’d ever trusted completely and the fact that she was entirely comfortable being at his command was something new to explore, especially when he was so deliciously good at taking the lead.

She let out a gasp as Jack’s mouth found the sensitive flesh over her hip bone and stroked it with his tongue and teeth. Her hands clutched onto his shoulders to avoid falling over in ecstasy. He looked up at her to make sure she was alright.

“Bed?” He recommended.

She whimpered at the loss, looking hesitantly over to the bed before looking down at him.

“Bed.” She decided, hoping her legs would cooperate, but Jack seemed to understand precisely how she felt because he picked her up easily and laid her down on the bed.

“Better?” He smiled down at her.

“Not quite.” She placed her foot on his shoulder coyly, encouraging him to continue.

Jack chuckled and took the hint.

OOOOO

Jack’s eyes ached from exhaustion for the second time that week but as the clock struck three this time around, he refused to close them.

What had he done, he wondered, to deserve a sight like this even once in his lifetime?

She moved languidly, full of the confidence and comfort that came only after truly remarkable sex with someone you trusted implicitly.

Sex that he had given her.

His eyes never left her as she cleared her face of the remnants of her cosmetics, dressed in a silk robe that Jack already knew wouldn’t make it to breakfast, and made her way back over to him.

He opened his arms to her as she straddled him rather than return to her own side of the mattress.

“What are you thinking about so intently?” She whispered, looking into his eyes, overtly trying to uncover the answer on her own.

“Third time lucky.” He teased, fingering the hem of her robe. In the dim light, he could have sworn he saw her blush, embarrassed by the assumptions she had made earlier. “But I’d do it all over again for the sight of you tonight.”

Phryne ran her hands over his chest, too emotionally exhausted to comment, but appreciating the sentiment all the same.

“You need sleep." He touched her cheek as he examined her heavy eyelids.

“No.” She groaned, even as he slid their bodies futher down the mattress. “If I close my eyes, tonight ends and I don’t want it to end yet.” She smiled sadly. After their emotional talk and several rounds of lovemaking, they were both more than a little punch drunk, but of course Phryne would go down swinging.

“You keep the night watch then.” He allowed, closing his eyes. “Wake me when you want your bedroom back.” He didn’t think he would be waking up anytime soon of his own volition.

“Jack?” She whispered as her finger tapped him on the chest gently.

“Mm?” He cracked one eye open for her.

“First time was pretty lucky for me as well.” She grinned saucily.

The sentimental joke struck him straight through the heart and he pulled her close for one more long, slow kiss before closing his eyes, letting the rhythm of her breathing carry him off to sleep.


End file.
